He smiled, but it held no humor. “That was the idea, Ms. Boyett. I planned everything down to the last detail. And it all went perfectly. Even with Alicia surviving, there was nothing that pointed to me. I was golden. But then a little note I received this morning”—he sneered at Erwin—“reminded me I had one last loose end to tie up before I disappeared.”
“You could still go,” Vera urged. She had a feeling this was hers and Erwin’s last shot.
The man’s fury settled on her. “I could have, but then you showed up.”
40
Carter Residence
Coldwater Creek Road, 10:30 a.m.
Carter had already started packing when Bent and his backup arrived.
Myra was at the judge’s house, getting the warrant to search the property.
“What’s going on, Sheriff?” Carter looked for all the world as if she had no idea why they had shown up.
She might have pulled off the whole innocent act if it hadn’t been for the two suitcases lined up next to the door.
“Looks like I arrived just in time.” He glanced at the suitcases. “Why don’t we have Jose and Renata join us?”
Carter pulled out her cell phone to make the call to her tenants. Bent’s cell vibrated with an incoming text. Myra was on the way with the search warrant.
When Carter ended her call, Bent said, “The warrant is en route. Do we need to wait for it to arrive to get started with our search of your property?”
“No.” Carter shook her head. “Don’t bother. It was me.”
Bent studied her a moment. “It was you what?”
“I killed them. I was angry that they were moving away, and I killed them.”
Bent held up a hand. Anticipation of a confession had his instincts on point, but this was a little too easy. This was way off somehow. “Why don’t we back up a moment—”
“Just read me my rights, Sheriff,” she shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks.
That was about the fastest confession Bent had ever gotten. The trouble was, he was pretty positive she was lying.
His cell vibrated again. “Shepherd,” he said to the nearest deputy, who hustled over to Bent. “Read Ms. Carter her rights, and take her in. Same goes for Ms. Hernandez and Mr. Martinez.”
Bent stepped onto the porch and took the call. He didn’t recognize the number. “Sheriff Benton.”
“Sheriff, this is Kayla Johnson. I live in Valeri Erwin’s building.”
Bent remembered. “Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?” He was a little busy at the moment, but she was in the building where he’d left Vee, so he’d give her a minute.
“I saw Ms. Boyett go into Valeri’s apartment a little while ago, and well, about fifteen minutes before she got here, a man went to Valeri’s door as well. He banged on the door really hard. That’s what made me peek out my door. Anyway, when Valeri answered, he was very rude. He shoved her back into her apartment and went in and closed the door. I thought when Ms. Boyett arrived, she’d come to take care of the trouble, but now I’m getting worried. I heard someone shouting and then it got like too quiet. I don’t know what’s happening, but it doesn’t feel right, Sheriff. My kids are here, so I can’t do anything.”
“One second, Ms. Johnson.” Shepherd had just escorted a handcuffed Carter out the door. Bent raised a hand for his deputy to hold up, uncertainty pulsing in his veins. He had to get to Vee. “I need your cruiser keys.”
Shepherd looked at Carter and then back to Bent. “I thought—”
“Now!” The uncertainty had morphed into outright fear. Vee was in trouble.
Shepherd gave him the keys, and Bent bounded toward the cruiser. As he climbed in, he asked, “Ms. Johnson, can you describe the man to me?”
“Ah ... he’s, I don’t know, mid-thirties. Tall. Good-looking white fellow. Dark hair. Dressed well.”
A quick mental run-through of all involved in this case, and the image of Gill Jamison stood out. No way to be certain, but given their visit to his place this morning, he was the most likely. “Did you see a weapon, Ms. Johnson?”
